


Introspection and the Outside World

by cassievalentine



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-09-21 16:58:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9558494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassievalentine/pseuds/cassievalentine
Summary: Sometimes you just need to disappear from the world for a while. At various times in their lives, the members of SG1 escaped both into and out of themselves as a way of dealing with the pain and joy that life brings. The death of a mother, the birth of a child, discovering the wonder that is books and earning the freedom of yourself and others are just some of the events that cause the members of SG1 to look inside themselves for the answers. Those answers, however, are not always found within. Sometimes all you need are friends.





	1. Samantha Carter

**Author's Note:**

> The majority of the relationships in this fic are mentioned in passing or are of the "squint and read between the lines" variety. There also may very well be relationships mentioned/glanced at that didn't make it into the tags.
> 
> I only tagged the SG1 crew because there is kind of A LOT going on in this fic.
> 
> This was originally a Big Bang fic.

 

_Her Mother_

* * *

"Sam?"

"In here," she called out cheerfully if not a bit absentminded while slowly moving the cookies from the hot baking sheet to a cooling rack. "Why are you crying?" she asked as soon as she saw her father with tears in the corner of his eyes.

He sighed and dropped his gaze as he tried to find the words.

"Where's mom?" she asked slowly, lowering the spatula a bit as she felt her own eyes start to tear up.

"There was an accident," he finally said, stepping slightly closer to her. "Your mom. . . they tried. . . She …" he trailed off when he felt the tears welling up again.

Sam didn't let him finish as she figured out where this was leading. The spatula slipped from her fingers and fell onto the baking tray, sending it and the cookies crashing to the floor. She ignored the noise as she quickly pushed past her father and headed toward the front door, ignoring him calling her name.

She slammed her hands into the door, trying to push it open before remembering that she had to turn the knob.

A frustrated sob escaped her as she finally got the door open. She burst into the yard, leaping down the front stairs and stumbling for a moment before she caught her balance and took off toward the wooded area next to their house.

Her father quickly followed her out the door, but she didn't stop as he continued to call for her to come back as he stood on the front porch.

Sam was headed toward her safe haven that sat at the end of their street. She intended to disappear into the woods as quickly as possible.

She raced across the pavement and jumped the large ditch with far less grace than she usually displayed, falling to her knees on the other side. She felt the damp from the earth sink into the knees of her jeans before she picked herself up and kept going.

When the scrubby bushes and saplings started to turn into real bushes and towering trees she paused for a moment, looking around wildly as she tried to figure out where she was and where she was going.

She swiped at her eyes, angry that they were daring to shed tears while she was trying to see. After a quick minute, Sam knew where her destination was and took off yet again.

They had been living in this house for the last five years, a Carter family record. In that time, she and her older brother Mark had managed to explore the woods she was currently running through. There was a tree a few miles in; a beautiful tree that just screamed to be climbed. She and Mark had done just that, and in fact that was how she broke her arm for the first time.

Branches and leaves scratched her face and sides where her shirt rode up, but she didn't notice. She swiped at her eyes again to keep them clear as she raced toward her goal. Her chest was heaving by the time she reached the tree and she felt a little dizzy, but she didn't care.

She dragged the old oil barrel they used as a first step back over to the base of the tree and quickly climbed up onto it without taking the time to make sure it was stable.

With a quick jump, she grasped the lowest branch and started to pull herself up. A few moments later she was settling herself into the crook of branches that had always been hers. Mark's crook sat empty, a few branches over.

She sat back against the trunk of the tree, hugging her knees to her chest and finally let herself fall apart. Great heaving sobs shook her while tears mingled freely with the sweat on her face. She cried for herself and her mother and out of pure rage at her father's selfishness until she thought she'd throw up from the exertion of it all.

Eventually, she had no more tears to cry, only great shuddering breaths as she tried to calm down. She wasn't surprised that no one had come looking for her while she'd been gone. Mark had taken off to spend the day with his friends and her father wouldn't know how to find her even if she'd left him instructions.

She shivered a little as the sun began to dip below the horizon. It had been midday when she'd first come out here. She cast an eye over the reds, oranges and yellows that were now coloring the sky but found she took no pleasure in them and doubted that she ever would again.

Sam didn't bother moving from her tree, though. She stayed put, wedged into her little crook, watching as the fiery colors faded to more soothing blues, purples and pinks as twilight finally emerged. When the first stars began to appear, she unfolded herself and slowly made her way out of the tree.

Exhaustion hit her as she walked back through the woods; the anger and adrenaline that had fueled her run over the miles long gone. She moved sluggishly through the woods, pushing branches away from her face and uttering a sharp gasp every now and then as her long hair caught on an unseen branch or twig. Eventually she gathered her hair in her hands and shoved it down the back of her shirt to keep it out of the way as she continued back toward home.

She paused at the end of the block when she saw Mark's car in the driveway. He was four years older than she and had spent all of last summer working to buy that rusted-out shit box that she was sure he loved more than she.

As she got closer to the house, she could hear yelling. It didn't take her long to realize that it was Mark and Jacob making all the noise. This wasn't all that uncommon at her house these days. Jacob wanted Mark to join the Air Force, and Mark wanted nothing to do with that life.

Sam glanced around her as she walked, looking for nosy neighbors. She couldn't help but sigh when she saw a few. They offered her sympathetic looks, but she couldn't decide if they were for the yelling or because they already knew that Evelyn Carter was dead. Sam trudged slowly up the front stairs and her hand hovered above the doorknob as she listened to the yelling inside.

"You selfish bastard!" Mark yelled. "How can you stand there and tell me this was all an accident?"

"And I suppose you can predict the future now?" Jacob fired back.

"She was waiting for you! If you weren't so wrapped up in whatever shit it was you were doing she wouldn't have had to call that cab!"

"What I do for the Air Force isn't shit," she heard. "What I do puts food on your table, clothes on your back and gives you the rights and freedoms you love so much!"

A momentary stalemate seemed to fall over the pair. Sam assumed they were thinking what to argue about next since they hadn't ended with the traditional "Fuck you!" and "Get the hell out of my house and don't come back until you're ready to show some respect!"

"Where's Sam?" Mark finally asked. "Where's your other kid?" A long silence fell again, which didn't surprise her at all..

"She's taking some time," Jacob eventually answered.

"Since when? About six this evening?" he asked. "It's 10 o'clock now, Dad. Where the hell is my kid sister?"

Sam took a deep breath and opened the door as the volume level escalated yet again. Both men stopped and turned to look at her. Sam had never felt smaller than she did at that moment.

"I'm going to bed," she muttered as she closed the door and slipped off her shoes, darting up the stairs to her room and then the shower before either of them could question her.

The shower didn't quite drown out the sound of more yelling, or the sound of a door slamming as someone, probably Mark, stormed out of the house.

Sam allowed her head to fall forward and rest against the cold tiles; the water still pounding her hair flat against her back. She listened to the stairs creek and the sound of her parents' door opening and shutting.

Her father's room, she quickly corrected herself. Her father's room because her mother was dead because he was too self-important to pull himself away from yet another pointless meeting.

She thumped her fist against the tile wall a few times, trying to hold back the tears but eventually gave up. Sam turned slightly and let herself slide down the shower wall, pulling her knees to her chest as the tears fell once again.

* * *

_Jolinar_

* * *

"Everything looks good," Janet said softly, carefully flashing her pen light into Sam's eyes one last time before checking the EEG results. "I also don't think we need these anymore," she added, carefully peeling the electrodes off of Sam's forehead.

Frasier couldn't help but frown when Sam gave no reaction at all, not even when some of her hair got caught in the adhesive.

"I guess I'll just let you get some rest then. Don't hesitate to call if you need anything, OK?" She waited a moment before quietly slipping from the room.

As soon as Janet left her, Sam rolled over and pulled one of her pillows to her chest. She curled up around it and simply held on, not knowing what else to do with herself.

Her eyes fixed on the wall across from her without really seeing anything. She pulled into herself, trying to distance herself from the world while her mind sorted through everything that had happened to her in the last 48 hours.

She had been taken as a host and lived to tell about it.

Part of her believed Jolinar that the Tok'ra were different from the Goa'uld. But only part. She still couldn't believe her 100 percent. She had been tucked away in her own brain the whole time, watching herself as she trapped a terrified Cassie behind the couch and threatened her with death if she said anything. Watching as she pulled the pin on a grenade and demanded the gate be opened, listening as she begged Colonel O'Neill to believe she was telling the truth.

She hated herself for what she had done, even though she hadn't really done any of it.

Her thoughts flew back to Cassie and she curled around her pillow even tighter.

She loved that little girl like her own and had promised to keep her safe. But instead she had cornered her behind a couch, grabbed her by the arms and forced her to look her in the eye while she demanded information the girl couldn't possibly know before threatening to shoot her without mercy.

She'd left Cassie cowering and crying behind that couch before stalking out of the office and closing the door behind her. She had composed herself in the hallway and then walked away like nothing was wrong.

Sam was torn from her thoughts a few moments later when Teal'c came in and sat by her bed. He was speaking in low, soothing tones but she didn't hear what he was saying. She was lost in her own little world, trying to make sense of her new experiences and the memories that Jolinar seemed to have left, or was leaving, in her head. Flashes of deserts and blond hair and blue eyes she didn't recognize were mixed with images of her childhood home and the smell of fresh-baked cookies. There were worlds she didn't recognize, populated by people she knew and others she felt like she should know but didn't.

Teal'c's brow furrowed as he cast a critical eye over Carter.

Her back was to him and she was curled around a pillow. He sat for a few more moments before leaving. Sam breathed a bit of a sigh once he left and lost track of time once again until O'Neill came in.

Again, she ignored him as he rambled away about everything and nothing. She even ignored him when he ordered her to turn and look at him. She felt herself twitch slightly at the order, but there was a disconnect between her sense of duty and her sense of self-preservation. She stayed where she was. She really wanted to tell him to shove off and not come back, but she couldn't find the strength to do it. He left soon afterward and she was glad.

Apparently it was Daniel's turn at some point, and judging by the smell he'd braved a florist for her. He did nothing more than drop the flowers off as far as she could tell before he too disappeared and left her in silence.

She focused inward again, not able to focus on anything but what was going on in her own mind.

Her thoughts finally drifted away from what Jolinar had done, or made her do and had moved on to thinking about what Jolinar had done for her.

The symbiote could have taken her with her when she died. She could have hung on and taken her memories and the secrets of the Tok'ra with her, but she didn't.

She gave Sam a chance, trusted her in a way that no one else had. Sam didn't know if she'd ever get over the guilt of that.

An alien had trusted her and the rest of the SGC with her most closely guarded secrets when the humans around her couldn't get over themselves and open themselves up to the possibility that she was telling the truth; that all they had to do was let her go through the gate to another world where she could find a new host and leave Sam just as she'd found her.

Sam wasn't sure, but she thought that she might actually hate herself for what had happened to Jolinar.

Her thoughts suddenly turned to what the NID or even the Air Force was going to want with the knowledge that was now in her head. She tried to force her thoughts back to nothingness, but they wouldn't stop positing scenarios until she felt the mattress dip under her and the sheets and blankets pull tight over her body. The plastic sheeting on the mattress crinkled as whoever was on the bed with her now shuffled a little further up behind her shoulders.

"Sam, it's me," she heard a little voice break through to her. "You're going to be OK," Cassie told her with a slight smile as she laid a small hand on her arm.

Sam couldn't help but turn slightly to look at Cassie.

"You're very brave," the girl added after a moment, something Sam had told her many times since they'd found her.

"I don't feel very brave," Sam admitted quietly, turning her gaze from Cassie and focusing on the wall again.

Cassie frowned for a moment, her brow wrinkling as she tried to figure out what else she could do.

Slowly, she sat back from Sam and slid off the bed, kicking off her shoes as she walked to the other side of the bed. She stuck herself right in Sam's line of vision until she finally focused on her.

Gently, Cassie pulled the pillow from Carter's grasp before climbing onto the bed and slipping herself into her arms. With a sigh, Sam pulled her closed and hung on, taking a moment to rest her forehead on the back of Cassie's head. The loss of Jolinar stung a little less with the little girl in her arms.

"I'm sorry," Carter said after a long moment. "For what I said to you in your Janet's office."

"It wasn't you," Cassie said, drawing circles on the back of Carter's hand with a finger.

"I'm still sorry," she said again, holding Cassie a little tighter.

"I'm really glad you're OK," the little girl said and Sam was pretty sure that she could hear a hitch in her voice, like she was trying not to cry.

Carter didn't blame her. She had lost her whole world a few months ago and now to have almost lost someone else close to her . . . Carter couldn't imagine what that might be like.

"I'm not really OK," Carter whispered.

"You will be," the girl said with far more wisdom than any 11-year-old should have. "Janet says you can stay with us for a while if you'd like."

"I think I . . . I just need to be alone for a while." Sam felt Cassie stiffen in her arms before she quietly asked if Sam wanted her to leave.

Sam held her a little tighter and assured her that she wanted her to stay. If Sam Carter was going to hide away from the world, there was no one she'd want to hide away with more than Cassie.

Silence fell over the pair again until Cassie began to quietly tell Sam what she was doing in school and in the extra tutoring she was taking to catch up to other kids her age.

Sam couldn't help but sigh and feel some of the stress melt away as she lost herself in the world of the little girl in her arms.

* * *

_Confessions_

* * *

She locked herself in her lab as quickly as she could after all was said and done.

Sam even ignored Daniel in his suit, something she would normally have teased him about, as he called out to her.

She hadn't even stopped to apologize to the people she bumped into as she hurried through the corridors of the SGC. She just needed to get away, needed to figure things out or forget. She wasn't sure yet which was the better idea.

Sam quickly locked the door behind her before coming to a stop in the middle of the lab. Her eyes darted from surface to surface, landing on all her little projects and experiments for a fraction of a second before moving on to the next one.

She knew what she could be working on, what she should be working on, but she couldn't get her mind to settle on one project. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, hoping that would focus her. But instead all it did was remind her of what had just happened.

She had killed Martoof, shot him with her Zat twice and then caught him as he slumped to the floor.

He had looked right at her, turned those blue eyes on her and begged her to do it, to stop him before he killed himself or anyone else in the gate room and she had done it.

She had calmly raised her arm, aimed and fired. She hadn't hesitated or closed her eyes, either. She'd simply disconnected herself from the moment and let the soldier take over and get the job done. Sam had often appreciated her ability to compartmentalize in the past, but not so much as right now.

In any other universe, that would have been enough emotional trauma for one day.

But this wasn't any other universe. This was her universe. And in her universe there was no such thing as enough emotional trauma.

So not only had she gotten to kill a friend today, she'd also gotten to confess her feelings for her CO and listen to him confess his feelings for her in front of her best friend, her teammate and a complete stranger. And then she'd quickly told him that they could just never speak of this again and go back to the way things had always been. He'd agreed.

She knew that they were both doing this for the sake of their careers so that they could continue to fight the Goa'uld, but it didn't lessen the hurt any more.

After Jonas, she didn't trust herself to pick anyone that wouldn't hurt her again. But despite her best efforts, she had done just that. She had fallen for the unattainable man and had no choice but to carry on.

And things were always going to carry on, her mind added silently.

Sam tried to focus herself after her last thought, to remember where she'd left off in her latest project, but she was having a hard time doing that. She kept seeing Martoof's face before she shot him, and O'Neill's face as he focused on her, making his confession about caring more than he was supposed to.

She couldn't help but think that she'd had the same look on her face as she'd focused on him and made the same confession.

Sam also took a moment to worry about what was going to happen next.

Janet had heard and was obligated to report to Hammond that her judgment - and O'Neill's - was compromised.

She had no idea if Janet would do it, or if she'd just keep an eye on the situation. Sam knew that Frasier suspected something was going on between them long before now and she had yet to say anything, so maybe she'd continue to hold her tongue.

The last thing Sam really wanted to do was deal with being transferred out of the SGC because of a confession made under the threat of death.

Sam finally gave her head a shake, trying to physically remove the thoughts from her brain. If she continued to dwell on all the what-ifs, she was going to drive herself batty.

Finally her eyes lit on the Naquadah generator. Her self-reprimand worked well enough for her to remember that she'd been playing with the generator again, trying to increase the efficiency so that they could make less Naquadah go further without seeing any drop in power production.

She was elbow deep in the generator when the first knock on her lab door came. Her head popped up and she very nearly left her lab bench to go and unlock the door before the day came crashing back down on her.

Sam turned her attention back to the generator, attempting to push the day away from those thoughts again. She couldn't really tell who was on the other side trying to get her attention, but she didn't really care. If someone really needed her for something important, they'd call her, they wouldn't come down to her lab.

She breathed a sigh of relief when whoever was knocking finally gave up and left.

When she eventually finished with the generator, she moved onto the next project on her list. She only came out of her lab 18 hours later when Hammond sent down two SFs to physically remove her from the base and escort her home.

* * *

_Janet_

* * *

She'd always liked Maine, especially in the fall.

Her family hadn't lived in the state long when she and Mark were kids. But she remembered that they had been there during the fall. The leaves were changing color, creating a tapestry of vibrant colors on the sidewalks when they fell.

She'd been young enough that her days at school were spent collecting fallen leaves for different art projects and science experiments. She also remembered helping her father rake the leaves in their yard into large piles before she and Mark would take turns jumping into them and scattering them to the wind.

This trip to Maine hadn't been particularly fun at all. Sure, the leaves were changing colors and kids were still collecting and jumping into piles of them, but she could take no joy from watching their antics.

Sam sighed as she let her head flop to the side, her eyes starting out the train car's window but not really seeing anything but the blur of passing foliage. In her mind she knew that she was seeing trees, long grasses and scrubby little bushes. But to her eye they were noting but a blur, much like the last week had been.

Janet had died at the beginning of that week, but it felt much fresher to Sam.

Maybe it was because every time she thought the wound was starting to scab, she was called upon to do something that opened it right back up again. That stupid documentary, speaking at Janet's memorial and going home to Cassie every night. Finally, there was the civilian ceremony in Colorado, and now they were on their way home from the family ceremony in Maine with Janet's family.

Sam yawned as she felt the rocking of the train car starting to lull her to sleep. She'd wanted to fly to Maine, get there and get home as soon as possible so she could start moving on and take care of the last of the legal proceedings at home. Cass wasn't quite 18 yet, so it all fell to Sam to deal with things. Cassie, however, had wanted to take the train. She couldn't come up with any real reasons other than she wanted to, so Sam gave in.

She cast half an eye on the girl who was asleep, tucked into her side looking very much like the 11-year- old she'd found so many years ago. Her eyes were still red and her face still stained, but at least she was asleep, her weight a warm comfort against Sam's side. The rest of SG1 had volunteered to come along, but both Sam and Cassie had asked them not to.

"I didn't realize there were any Air Force bases in Maine." Sam jerked her head up from Cassie to look at the other occupant of their car. She was an older woman who, up until now, had been happy to sit quietly and knit.

"There are," Sam answered softly, sitting a little straighter in her seat while trying not to wake Cass.

The two women shared a look for a moment when Sam didn't say anymore. She desperately hoped the stranger would turn back to her knitting, but she didn't. She continued to sit and stare at Sam.

"Her mother was killed last week," she supplied. A look of pity quickly flushed over the woman's face.

"Over seas?" she asked.

"Something like that," Sam replied, turning her attention back to the window, hoping the woman would get the message.

Sam hadn't wanted to wear her dress blues on the train, but the wake had run long and between Cass needing to be back in school and her needing to be back at work, their options had been limited. On the plus side, it had gotten them some preferential treatment when boarding. She supposed she was paying for it now.

"My condolences," she finally said softly, turning back to her knitting.

Sam sighed heavily again, resting her forehead against the cool glass of the window as she once again allowed the blurring landscape and the gentle sway of the car to sooth her rattled nerves.

Sam hadn't tried to adopt Cassie when she was young because she knew she wasn't ready. Sure, she wanted kids, wanted Cass, but she wasn't ready for them yet. She still had things to do and see and she still needed to become herself.

Truth be told, she wasn't really ready to be a parent now, either, but she didn't have any choice this time. She didn't get to be the fun aunt who came to rescue her from her tyrant of a mother; she was the tyrant of a mother now.

That thought made Sam pause. How was she supposed to mother this girl when she hardly remembered her own mother? Sure, she had experience in dealing with the death of a mother, but beyond that she was useless.

It didn't help that Cassie was an aimless academic. She loved learning, but had no real focus on what she wanted to learn other than anything and everything. How was she supposed to advise this kid on picking a college or university when she had no idea what she wanted to major in? Hell, Sam didn't even know how to go about suggesting things for her to major in. Thanks to tutors and the members of SG1, she was equally good in all her subjects, nothings really stood out above the others.

"Sam?"

"What?"

"What's wrong?" Cassie asked, pulling away from Sam's side a little. "You're all tense." Sam stayed quiet for a moment.

"I guess I'm just finishing growing up," she answered when it suddenly clicked that she was already worrying like a parent.

"I don't understand," she said, a confused look coming over her face.

"Neither do I, really," Sam replied with a sad smile as she dropped a kiss on Cassie's forehead. "Just enjoy the ride," she concluded, pulling Cassie close again.

Cass' brow furrowed as she tried to follow Carter's logic, but gave up after a moment. She allowed herself to settle back into Sam's side, holding her hand in hers as they both got lost in their own thoughts again.

* * *

_Losing Atlantis_

* * *

She felt like a fool standing there in the gate room of the SGC.

The gray of her Atlantis uniform stood out like a sore thumb among the olive drab and blue BDUs peppering the gate room. Her hair made her stand out as well. She had taken to wearing it in a neat braid down her back since growing it long, not the messy ponytail she'd thrown it into when leaving Midway.

Sam looked around for Landry, or possibly Daniel and Teal'c to meet her upon arrival. Then she would be free to escape to her on-base quarters for a much overdue shower and change. The cramped Midway Station didn't have a lot of amenities, and a shower for visitors was not something normally offered.

She was met instead by Richard Woolsey, who promptly told he she would no longer be in command of the Atlantis mission. That despite the fact she had done outstanding work in Pegasus, she was being reassigned effective immediately and that the rest of her things would be sent to Earth on the Daedelus.

Sam had been so stunned to hear this that her brain hadn't caught up to the fact that she was shaking his hand and wishing him luck as he headed out to take over her command.

Suddenly her brain kicked in and she turned her head just in time to see Woolsey step through the wormhole without her. She felt like the bottom of her stomach had just hit her shoes as she watched the wormhole snap off.

Sam stayed glued to the spot for another long moment before an SF gently reminded her that she needed to report to the infirmary for a physical.

"Hold on," she said as she left them standing in the corridor and shot off into the control room. She asked Walter what Cam, Vala, Daniel and Teal'c were up to, and she was more than a little relieved to hear that they were all off-world. She thanked him for his help, and he welcome back before heading off towards the infirmary.

She dropped her bag on the end of the bed and pulled herself up, nodding when Carolyn Lam paused in her examinations but making no effort take part in any small talk.

Sam's brain was too busy worrying about Atlantis to pay attention to the local gossip at the moment. The to-do list was long: requisitions to file, personnel conflicts to remedy and at least two trading treaties to looked over and approve.

She also was busy worrying about the state that she had left her quarters in. She'd been meaning to clean up and take care of the laundry for weeks now, but something more important kept coming up. God, she hopped Teyla, or at the very least Sheppard, was going to take care of it. Either of them would understand and not discuss what was found while packing.

"Everything looks good Colonel," Lam said after a moment. "I'd like to see you get a little more sleep, eat a little more protein for a while. But other than that, you're free to go."

"Thanks," she said, slipping off the bed and grabbing her bag. After quick stops to change into civvies and request transportation clearance from Landry, Carter left the base. She blinked at the bright sunshine for a moment as she waited for her car to be brought around. By the time it finally arrived she had her game plan.

* * *

"Sir? There's someone here to see you." Jack frowned as he looked at his secretary.

"I'm not in," he said, turning his attention back to the paperwork in front of him.

"Sir, she says she's a friend." This caught Jack's attention.

"She?"

"Yes, Sir," the secretary said again, beginning to grow weary of the conversation.

"Tall, blonde, blue eyed . . ."

"And a colonel."

"Send her in," he said, clearing his desk as the secretary left and Sam slipped in. They stared at each other for a moment before she sat in one of the chairs in front of his desk.

"They replaced me with Woolsey," she finally said.

"I'm sorry," he replied. He'd fought long and hard to keep her in command. But in the end, his opinion had counted for little, given their personal relationship.

"So I'm hiding," she finished, sounding very much like a petulant 12-year-old. She finished off the illusion by crossing her arms over her chest and pouting just a little.

"Cool," Jack replied as he stood from his desk, ignoring the look on her face. She watched as he came around his desk to pluck his hat and jacket from the coat rack. "Let's go, Carter," he said with a smile, gesturing to the door.

"Linda, I'm in a meeting and you've never seen Colonel Carter before in your life," Jack said as they headed out of his office.

"Of course I haven't, Sir," she answered, giving the pair a look over the top of her glasses before turning her attention back to her paperwork.


	2. Daniel

_Imaginary travels_

* * *

  
Danny Jackson watched through the window of his second-story room as his parents packed up the truck to go to their dig site. They had been living in Egypt for as long as he could remember. They'd had been going off on digs for just as long.

Sometimes if they were just going out to look over a dig, he could come along. He'd curl into his father's lap, his small hand wrapped around a trowel, unearthing something slowly. When he would get close, his father's hand would gently cover his own, swallowing it up as they finished the excavation together.

Today was not one of those days. His parents were heading off on what was probably a wild-goose chase and he was not coming along.

The grandmother who lived on the floor below them often watched him for his parents. She had folded him into her rather large brood of grandchildren, and he was more than welcome to spend days, even weeks, with her. EVERYONE called her Grandmother.

He turned slightly when he heard his door creak open and saw Grandmother peaking in on him. She waved him over and he reluctantly obeyed. She led him down stairs where he said good-bye to his parents.

His mother told him to be good, be safe and follow directions. He agreed, hugging and kissing them both goodbye before stepping back into the arms of Grandmother. He watched as his parents got into the truck and took off toward the desert

As usual, Danny was ushered back into the house. Plopping a large brimmed, floppy hat on his head, Grandmother then slipped a rather large and very full canteen over his shoulder before ushering him out the back door to play for the day.

Grandmother wouldn't be expecting him to come home until one of three things happened: it was time for lunch, he got hurt, or he ran out of water.

With a sigh, Danny surveyed the desert in front of him before setting off for the stagnant pond a few yards away. He knew not to drink the water in the pond, but there was nothing stopping him from using it to wet the sand, making it heavy and sticky instead of fine and loose.

Within moments he had uncovered the old, broken pot he kept partially buried by the pond and had filled it, dumping it in a preferred spot nearby. He repeated this ritual several times before dropping his own canteen beside him and pushing his sleeves up. He quickly dove into the mud he'd made, mixing in more sand until he was satisfied with the consistency and started to build.

"DAN-YEL!" Danny's head popped up from the world he was building and he looked around, confused. He finally caught a glimpse of his elderly neighbor calling to him.

He squinted up in the sky at the sun that was now directly overhead before dropping his head to the town he had built, full of temples and pyramids and other features common to the 2nd Dynasty.

"Coming!" he called, scrambling up from the sand and grabbing his canteen before rushing to the house for lunch. He wolfed down his sandwich, ignoring protests to slow down before refilling his canteen, slapping his hat back on his head and rushing back out to the world he was creating.

Grandmother watched him from the window, cocking her head to the side as he kneeled in the sand, his back to her.

Daniel worked in the sand for a while longer before he straightened, adjusting his hat and standing as tall as possible to march around his creation while making grand gestures. The grandmother couldn't do anything but laugh at the little boy antics before moving away from the window and getting back to her own work.

That boy was lost in his own little world and she knew that he'd stay there until she called him in for diner.

* * *

_Books_

* * *

  
The wake had been going on for hours, and Daniel had had enough.

He was tired of getting his hair ruffled and having to accept the pitying looks guests were giving him. The whispers were starting to grate on him as well.

Taking a quick look around to make sure that no one was paying any attention to him, he snuck out of the main room and down the hall to his father's study.

He opened the door just enough to slip in before shutting it silently behind him. He stood for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the dark since he didn't really want to turn the lights on. Eventually he moved further into the room, heading over to the bookshelves that covered one entire wall of the study from floor to ceiling.

Daniel ran his finger over the spine of an old, leather-bound book as he wandered slowly around his parent's study.

For the first time since dressing that morning, Daniel found that he didn't care about the too-small suit and badly tied tie. All of his attention was on the books in front of him.

The voices in the other room faded to a dull whisper now that the door was closed, something Daniel was more than thankful for. He was tired of people telling him how wonderful his parents had been and how sorry they were that they had died.

His grandfather had already started to pack up the house, marking the things to be sold, put into storage for Daniel when he was grown and things that Nikolas himself wanted to keep.

Daniel thought it was too early to be putting everything away, but no one would listen to him. So he started doing the only thing he could. He started squirreling away books. He didn't care what they were about or what language they were in. Daniel was taking them and hiding them away in boxes, drawers and even under his mattress.

Daniel suddenly paused in his title perusing and pulled a book from the shelf. It was big and heavy and smelled musty, but it was in English and seemed to have some pictures.

He cracked it open as he walked toward one of the over-stuffed chairs in the room. He was already absorbed in the story when he made it to the chair to sit down. By the time someone finally came looking for him, Daniel was already several chapters into the story.

"Come, Daniel," Nikolas Ballard called from the doorway.

Daniel reluctantly pulled his eyes from the book to focus on his grandfather. Nikolas called him again and he finally uncurled from the chair, bringing the book with him.

His grandfather positioned him in the hallway and made him accept hugs and handshakes from all the guests before telling him to go change out of his suit and play.

Daniel did change out of his suit, but instead of playing he curled up in his room and turned his attention back to his book.

Ten days later he was being ushered into a social worker's car along with his two suitcases. One held his clothes and the other his books. His grandfather had turned him over to child services after deciding he couldn't raise a child and carry on his work at the same time. Contact information was traded both ways before Daniel and his grandfather shared one last goodbye.

"You'll like the Dawsons, Daniel," his social worker said, a bit of an exaggerated smile on her face as she looked at him through the rearview mirror. She began describing a large house with a handful of other children and some dogs, but he wasn't paying attention. He perked up slightly when she mentioned the local school, but he tuned her out again when she started talking about making friends.

Daniel didn't really care about making friends. He'd moved around the world so much with his parents that he saw friends as random kids he found at digs. He didn't make friends at school because they thought he was strange.

She continued to talk about schools and kids and his new family and he continued ignoring her. He opened his suitcase and pulled out a book, loosing himself in the story as quickly as he could.

After some prompting, Daniel tucked his book away when they arrived at his new home. He allowed himself to be introduced to the family he was going to live with and be shown around the house.

He didn't say much of anything, simply shaking his foster mother's hand once she left him in his new room to settle in. He looked around the room with a critical eye before dropping his bags on the floor and settling on the bed. He opened his book again and lost himself in the world of Arthur and his knights.

A few months later Denise, his social worker, was back, helping him pack up and move to a new family. The Dawsons claimed he wasn't fitting in with the family, that maybe he'd do better in a quieter, smaller family.

This would become a reoccurring theme in his life as Daniel disappeared into books more than he took part in the real world around him.

Eventually, he came to live with the Wilsons, an older couple whose children were long grown.

"This was my favorite book growing up," Lily said one night as she tucked him into bed.

He'd been with them for a few weeks now and decided he liked living with them. They let him do his own thing and didn't push him to do anything he didn't really want to as long as he tried it once.

Daniel took the small paperback from Lily before turning his gaze to her.

"I know Anne is usually a girl's story, but I think you'll like it. She's kind of like you," she said, giving him a nudge and offering a smile before she adjusted his covers and dropped a kiss on the top of his head. "Don't stay up to late," she warned quietly.

Daniel started reading the new book immediately and finished it a week later. Lily presented him with a new book the day after that. Their pattern continued until Daniel left for university and even then, he tended to find a book or two in the care packages they sent him.

* * *

_The Stargate_

* * *

  
Daniel couldn't get over how depressing it was working in this mountain.

Sure, he'd spent years locked away in various libraries. But at least they all had windows. Of course, he probably should be thankful there were few distractions down here. Nothing but gray walls and military types in blue. No one really bothered him. He had all the time in the world to drive himself crazy, staring at the cracked cover stones currently mounted on the wall in front of him.

Daniel repeatedly fidgeted while staring at the damn stones: pushing his glasses back up his nose and running his hands through his hair to sweep it out of his eyes.

Just decipher the glyphs and he'd get paid, he told himself. And he really needed to get paid. He was pretty sure they'd only let him stay on this base for so long if he didn't start producing results. Hell, he was pretty sure that there was a limit to his stay here regardless of any results he produced.

He never should have given that lecture on pyramids as landing pads for spaceships. He shouldn't have written a paper about it, either. No paper, no being a laughing stock of the archeological community. No laughing stock, no being the nutty professor who couldn't get a grant even if he presented the committee a real, live pharaoh.

But he had given the lecture, written that paper and been laughed out of the archeological community. So here he was, at the mercy of the United States Air Force.

He hated to think that he was running away from his problems, that he was hiding in this mountain to get away from all the shame he had created for himself.

But if he was honest with himself, that was exactly what he was doing. Sure, he needed the money and had nowhere else to go, but he could have at least tried to make it in the world.

So here he sat. In a dark room, staring at glyphs on a heavy cover stone with no idea of what they meant.

If Katherine Langford stopped fighting for him, he was screwed and he knew it. She was probably the only person on this entire base who didn't think he was a waste of space.

With a sigh, Daniel pulled another large book in front of him and started flipping through it, hoping to find some reference to these symbols. He knew that the one on the very bottom represented the pyramids and possibly the pharaoh's themselves. But the other glyphs? No clue what they were supposed to represent.

"JACKSON!" Daniel's head jerked up from the book he was reading to see Colonel O'Neill standing in front of him, a large book in his hands. He'd obviously been banging it on the table trying to get his attention.

"Colonel?" he asked calmly, pushing his glasses up his nose yet again to hear the regular questions about progress and time.

Daniel provided the standard answers: little progress and more time needed. O'Neill drew himself up to his full height and loomed over the archeologist, making the standard threats about producing something or he'd be out on his ass. Daniel jumped up and rushed over to the cover stones, trying to tell the Colonel what he knew but O'Neill didn't want to hear it. He turned on his heel and left the nervous archeologist in the lab, still prattling on about hieroglyphs.

Daniel trailed off after a moment and sighed heavily before heading over to the coffee pot in the corner. He frowned at what he saw. The coffee had boiled down to nothing more than a dark brown ring at the bottom of the pot. He grabbed it and headed out of the door, absently flashing his ID at the guard permanently stationed outside.

As he held the pot under the stream of water from the fountain, he let his gaze wander until it landed on the paper the guard was reading. The horoscope page was staring back at him. He didn't think much of it. His horoscope never said anything good anyway, so what did he care? He couldn't look away, though.

Slowly, the pressure he was putting on the fountain tailed off as he concentrated harder on the constellations on the horoscope page. Something was getting through to him.

Suddenly it clicked, and he left the half filled coffee pot sitting in the water fountain as he rushed over and stole the sheet from the guard, tossing a halfhearted "Do you mind?" over his shoulder.

He was already retreating into his mind again as he tossed his books around to find a marker. Quickly, he connected the stars and everything started to click. Daniel's mind began to race as he realized what he had found. Grabbing the paper, he raced out of his lab to another one nearby.

"Captain Carter?" he asked, quickly launching into an explanation before the young Captain could even look up from her own work. He laid out his thoughts and waited as she showed him the math behind his theories. She had barely put a period on her last sentence before he had grabbed his newspaper again and left the lab, heading to the control room to show the rest of the officers his findings.

He had actually figured out how to open the Stargate. Payday had arrived.

* * *

_Cartoush room_

* * *

  
"There is another temple," Skaara said to Daniel as they walked back to the settlement. The two had been wandering around outside, enjoying the mild evening.

"There is?"

"Yes," the boy said with a nod. "Over there," he said, pointing vaguely. "It is … was forbidden. Ra told us that it was a temple even more sacred than the great pyramid. If any of us were ever caught there, he'd kill our whole family."

Daniel frowned as he thought about this for a moment. Chances were good that there was no temple, that it was just another story Ra had told to keep the people of Abydos under his thumb and scare them into obedience.

Then again, he didn't really think Ra would make such a pointed threat unless there was some truth to the matter. Daniel filed the information away before throwing an arm around his brother-in-law's shoulders and changing the subject.

Daniel had started exploring the village not long after they had finished sealing up the gate and celebrating the death of Ra. He would rise in the morning, help Sha're with whatever she asked, and then pick a direction and start walking, pausing every now and then to dig in the sand a little, thinking he'd seen something interesting.

It never ceased to amaze him how similar the desert on Abydos was to Earth's Egyptian desert. Pale, golden-colored sand stretched for miles in every direction. Dunes formed by hundreds of windstorms towered over him, adding dimension to an otherwise endless flat of sand.

It was also as fine as dust, finding it's way into his boots no matter how tightly he tied the laces or how well he tucked his pants into the tops of his boots.

He was starting to wear robes similar to the other men on Abydos. They looked heavier than the fatigues the army had set him up with, but they were actually quite a bit cooler and did see to reduce the amount of sand he shook off every night.

One morning after making his sad attempt at grinding the Eufetta flour, he'd headed east with Skaara and walked for a few minutes before they came across a small building.

Skaara hesitated, stating that this must be the forbidden temple he and Daniel had spoken of in the past. Daniel ran his hands over the hieroglyphs that covered the doorframe. He translated for Skaara, explaining that they simply proclaimed this building as property of Ra.

After some urging, he convinced Skaara to step inside with him. They found an unlit torch just inside the door and Daniel borrowed the lighter Jack had left Skaara to light it. The boy's face lit up when he saw the flame seemingly appear out of nowhere. Daniel couldn't help but smile. No matter how many times Skaara saw the lighter work, he was always amazed by it. Daniel loved how simple things brought these people such joy.

The boy followed closely behind Daniel, holding onto his robes to help keep his footing as they slowly moved further into the structure. Daniel's eyes darted around the narrow passage, taking in the hieroglyphs and other decorations that continued to proclaim the greatness of Ra. A few moments later the passage expanded to a large room.

"Oh my," Daniel said as he stopped in the middle of the room and turned slowly, letting the firelight bounce off of the glyphs that covered the walls.

"Danyel?" Skaara asked, not understanding what was so incredible. Skaara listened as Daniel began rambling about archeological significance while rushing to different walls, running his fingers over the raised glyphs.

Skaara watched Daniel for another few moments before he smiled and shook his head. He called out a farewell to Daniel, but his brother-in-law didn't hear him. Unsure of what else to do, the young man slipped out of the room and headed back to the village to let his father and sister know what Daniel was up to.

"Are you hungry?" Daniel's head jerked up from the glyphs he was reading at the sound of a familiar voice. He turned and saw Sha're standing at the entrance of the room, a bundle of what he assumed was food in her arms.

"Yes, actually," he said, pushing his glasses up his nose before finally walking away the wall and over to her.

He seated himself on the floor as she came over and began to tell him that he had been in here for hours. If it had not been for Skaara, she would have had no idea where he had gone.

In fact, they'd even been worried that he'd wandered too far into the desert and had gotten lost.

"I have never gotten lost in the desert on Earth, why would I get lost here?" he asked with a smile.

"But you are lost," she answered.

He blinked at her from behind his glasses, not understanding what she was getting at.

She gave him a coy smile and a giggle before offering him some of the bread made with the flour he ground this morning.

"This is not Earth," she answered, changing the subject slightly as she laid out the rest of the meal.

Daniel blinked at his wife for a moment; certain he was missing some kind of joke. He knew that Abydos wasn't Earth. If it were, he'd be hunting for a job right now, not eating flatbread and grimacing as he felt the ever-present sand between his teeth.

"I'm not lost," he muttered again, reaching for some of the other things she'd brought with her. "If anything I'm hiding," he concluded.

She laughed at him and he realized that hiding didn't sound much better than being lost.

"Hiding from what, husband?" she asked him after a moment, cocking her head to the side as he jumped to his feet. The long robes he wore tangled around his feet before he righted himself and headed over to one of the walls.

"Ridicule back on Earth, I suppose," he said. He began explaining how the writing on the walls proved him right before moving on to the very fact that she and Skaara and the others existed proved him right.

She listened as Daniel faded into his own world, talking about what the symbols meant, what they could mean for the people of Abydos. She let him ramble for a moment before calling out to him.

Sha're was not surprised when he didn't answer. If given the chance, Daniel would often loose himself in his own mind until she forcefully pulled him back to reality.

Sha're smiled indulgently as she settled back on the blanket she had laid out for them. She closed her eyes and let Daniel's voice flow over her. She didn't mind being ignored. The excitement in his voice was more than enough. He'd had so little to feel excited about recently. She was more than happy to let him have this.

* * *

_Unending_

* * *

  
While growing up, Daniel was sure his father's study would be his favorite room forever.

Dark wood paneling surrounded the walls, and well-used over-stuffed furniture invited you to sit and read for hours as the scent of books and leather permeated the room. Bookcases lined the room, floor to ceiling in some places, crammed with books in all different sizes and languages.

He would sit in that room with his father for hours, pouring over the books, content in the knowledge that all was right in the world.

As he looked around the room he now found himself in, he couldn't help but think he had been chasing that same feeling for years until now.

Sure, he was stuck on a starship in a time dilation field, stranded he didn't' know how many light years from Earth. But he felt like he was home.

Slowly and quietly he slipped further into the room, his eyes fixed upon a console with several Asgard stones lined up neatly across the bottom sitting in the middle of the room.

He picked one up and held the cool stone in his hand for a long while before gently placing it on the console. He watched as a wall of transparent blue characters popped up in front of him and seemed to hover in midair.

With a deep breath, Daniel began to read the text in front of him, committing the history of the Asgard to memory.

* * *

  
Sam sighed heavily as the hologram of Thor once again told her that what she wanted to do was impossible. She ran a hand through her hair before shutting off the hologram and pushing away from the computer console and her laptop.

She glanced around the small room she had sequestered herself in before getting up off her stool and heading into the ship's corridor.

Sam wandered slowly through the halls, praying she would not meet any one else still on board with her.

Sure, she had managed to save them and preserve the Asgard core, but she had absolutely no idea how to get them out of the time dilation field and save them before the Ori weapon killed them all.

As she wandered, she wished that Jack were here with them. No matter how stuck she got, he always seemed to show up and distract her long enough for her brain to refresh itself. He wasn't here though. He was back on Earth, in Washington, carrying on with his life.

He also had no idea that she had just trapped all his best friends in a starship for an unknown period of time.

Sam needed cake. And company. Preferably someone who would listen and hide any anger toward her. With a plan in her head, Sam began her search.

* * *

  
He didn't hear her find him in the library, being so wrapped up in what he was reading. His peripheral vision registered a new shadow in the room, but it didn't disturb him. He kept reading and Sam kept standing, watching Daniel as he read and learned.

As he preserved, she thought to herself. If there was anyone to preserve the legacy of the Asgard, it was Daniel.

Sam stood for a moment longer, watching him work as she tried to decide if she should disturb him or not.

In the end, she left him to his reading after seeing Vala appear in the hallway. Vala gave a little squeal as she lost her balance while wearing the roller skates she was trying to master. Sam immediately turned back to see if Daniel had noticed.

True to himself, Daniel hadn't noticed anything and was busy changing the stones, ready to start reading a new chapter.


	3. Jack

_Hard Hits_

* * *

  
Jack blinked quickly against the sweat that was running down his forehead, sticking his hair to his face. He really wished that he'd just sucked it up and shaved his head when the weather had started to get hot and muggy. He would have looked like a dork, but he would have been cooler. Besides, it would have grown back before school started again in the fall. But no, he had to decide to try and play it cool.

He was also really regretting that day he spent at the lake without his shirt on. It had been hot and he and his friends had been swimming, so he hadn't really thought much of it until he got home and a nasty sunburn started to spear across his back and shoulders. The sweat working it's way down his back really wasn't helping the burn, either.

Of course, the sunburn and the sweat made him think about cool ocean breezes, which led him to his favorite fantasy about escaping Chicago and running away to the ocean. Sure, he'd play on the beach for a while, enjoy the water and the amusement rides before deciding on his next plan of action.

He'd been thinking about it for a while now and he had finally decided that he wanted to be a pirate. He had considered Ninja for a while, but having to dress all in black and be perfectly quiet all the time seemed like a lot of work and not a lot of pay off. Being a sailor seemed kind of lame too, but a pirate? They were super cool. He wouldn't have a parrot though; he was too cool for that. He'd have a monkey instead, a little one that would ride around on his shoulder and fetch things when he asked for them and he wouldn't name it something stupid like Bananas. He'd come up with something really tough and fitting for a pirate's monkey.

Plus, he'd totally be a captain of his own ship and boss his crew around. They'd do what he wanted while he got to stand around behind the wheel looking dashing. He'd grow his hair out really long and tie it back so that it wouldn't get in his eyes when the wind started to really blow. And he'd look into an eye patch whether he really needed one or not because it would make him look tough. So would the scars he was going to look into getting. He'd probably skip the peg leg though, it looked painful and he imagined that it would probably slow him down, make him a clumsy sword fighter.

Oh yeah, a sword, he'd need a sword. A big fancy one to hang off of his belt. One that would make his enemies quake when all he had done was rattle it.

He'd also be able to drink and swear and stay up as late as he wanted to and no one would be able to say anything about it or try and force him to bed.

Of course, being a soldier might be fun too. He'd get to carry a big gun, travel the world and always get the bad guy.

Don't get him wrong, he liked Chicago and loved Minnesota, but he really wanted to see what was outside of North America. He'd read enough books from the library to have an idea about what was out there. He also watched the news and read the paper, so he knew that there were always bad guys that needed catching.

Soldiering was dangerous though; he might get shot before even seeing anything and that would make the whole endeavor rather pointless.

Maybe he should just finish school and start wandering. He could stop and stay in a town when he needed cash, work some odd jobs and then move on when he felt like it. Jack was turning into a fairly good mechanic; he was even picking up odd jobs around the neighborhood, fixing up lawnmowers and bikes that were on their way out. He was also a fair gardener, being able to tell a weed form a plant better than most. He'd also be able to make lots of friends in lots of different places, maybe even pick up a girl or two.

He could also have a girl in every town. He liked the sound of that, a girl to come home to no matter where he stopped. Someone to cook for him and do his laundry before he moved on again.

That might be a real hassle though, trying to keep more than one girl happy. They probably wouldn't want him to have other girl friends and he wouldn't feel right lying to them, telling them that they were the only ones when they weren't.

Maybe he wouldn't have any girls at all, just a dog.

He could get himself a dog that would be loyal and obey him without question. A best friend to keep him company and keep him safe. Yeah, a dog was definitely the way to go. He'd always wanted a dog.

"God damn it, boy. You listenin' to me?"

"Yes sir," Jack replied weakly, his hands clinging tightly to the banister, his legs shaking and threatening to give out on him.

"When I tell you to mow the god damned lawn, you do it," the old man said, giving Jack a shove on the shoulder. The boy grimaced, but he didn't say anything out loud.

"Yes sir," he replied again, wishing he could wipe the sweaty hair off of his forehead, but knowing that he couldn't move until given permission to do so.

"God damned kid," Lucas O'Neill growled as he threaded his belt back through the loops of his jeans. His fingers were drunk and clumsy, making him slow. He paused in his attempts to cuff Jack over the back of the head before going back to his belt.

"Don't listen to a damned thing," he muttered as he finally finished with his belt. He gave Jack one last shove in the back of the head before he wandered off to the living room, back to his easy chair, beer and TV.

Jack let out a shaky breath as he allowed himself to sink to the floor in front of the banister. He finally took the opportunity to wipe the hair from his forehead, grimacing as pain flared across his back.

He knew he was going to be wearing a shirt for the next few days, no matter how hot it got.

He also knew that he was sure about getting a dog now, a big one. A big, black dog that would protect him all the time and from anyone who even thought about hurting him.

* * *

_Flying Free_

* * *

Jack had been waiting for this day since being handed that brochure for the Air Force in high school.

The thought of a military career hadn't crossed his mind until he saw that fighter jet and the bold print saying that could be him. That's all it took. He was sold.

Jack applied to the Air Force Academy as soon as he was eligible, keeping everything that could possibly be crossed, crossed.

Until his acceptance letter had shown up in the mail, he had simply been biding his time until he could get behind the cockpit of a fighter jet.

Of course, when that letter had shown up, he had clutched it to his chest, afraid that The Old Man would find it and somehow ruin things for him, that he'd be stuck here forever instead of up in that jet.

But before he could get into said cockpit, he had to suffer through a class or two about physics and the physics of flying.

Jack really didn't care about the physics behind flying. He didn't understand half of what the prof was going on about and the half that he did understand he really didn't see the point of.

"O'Neill! Eyes front!"

"Yes, Sir! Sorry. Sir," he called out, sitting a little straighter in his chair and forcing his eyes back to the board for a few moments before dropping them back to his notes of little more than random doodles and scribbles.

He'd copy some notes from one of the math wiz geeks later. Peterson tended to have good notes capturing what the teacher was talking about while dumbing them down enough for even Jack O'Neill to understand.

The prof paused and rapped on the podium to get everyone's attention before announcing that tomorrow's class would put what they'd been learning into practice on the airfield. Jack perked up at this, especially when some one in the back asked how they were going to accomplish these maneuvers in gliders.

"You won't be in gliders, cadet. Under the supervision of an officer, you will each get to take a fighter up. Of course, this all depends on you passing this quiz."

The class groaned and Jack swallowed hard. He really hadn't been paying attention enough to pass a pop quiz. He was going to tank the quiz and have to sit back and watch as all his classmates got to take a real fighter up in the air. And then he'd never get flight certified and they'd probably kick him out and then The Old Man would have him back in his clutches. Jack stopped himself there, before he got completely out of control. He scaled his pessimism back a few points.

This was totally going to blow, he decided.

Tests were quickly distributed and he stared at the blank sheet of paper staring back at him. He exchanged his pen for a pencil, knowing that there was going to be erasing … a lot of erasing. Possibly enough to put a hole in the test paper.

"You have until the end of class," the prof said casually as he started packing up his things. Jack swallowed hard and turned the paper over. A smile broke out over his face as he read the question. He considered his answer for a moment before he began writing. Maybe this wasn't going to blow as much as he had anticipated.

* * *

  
Jack bounced on the balls of his feet, waiting his turn to climb into the cockpit of the plane. Half a dozen cadets had already gone up and two had already thrown up as soon as their feet hit the ground again. He couldn't help by wonder why you'd join the Air Force if you knew you got airsick.

"O'Neill, let's go!" Jack fired off a salute before he headed over to the plane as calmly as he could, which wasn't very calmly.

He all but jumped in and quickly went through the pre-flight checks before taking off. O'Neill quickly leveled off and while he was waiting for instructions, he allowed himself to take in the scenery.

The sky seemed to stretch forever and the sun was nothing but a brilliant white ball. He didn't bother looking down; he'd flown commercially enough to know what the world looked like from a plane.

Suddenly his headset came to life and he snapped his attention back to the task at hand. He radioed back to confirm the maneuvers he was supposed to do and then he took off, accelerating quickly before practicing a few tight, banking turns.

He loved the way that the fighter responded to him instantly, unlike the glider that seemed slow. He supposed it was because the glider depended on wind currents and the fighter most definitely didn't.

Feel brave and rebellious, O'Neill veered out of the turn he was in and banked down sharply before pulling up just as sharply and heading into a few trick maneuvers. He dimly heard someone in his headset yelling at him, but he ignored it. He was having too much fun. The sheer freedom of the moment was all around him and he couldn't help but feel free for the first time in his life, despite the fact that he was strapped in to a seat and his life was ruled by orders.

The pilot behind him chuckled and assured ground control that everything was under control as he transferred control from first seat to second.

Jack complained for a moment after he snapped back to reality and realized he no longer had control of the fighter.

The pilot ignored him and landed the plane for Jack, who was promptly pulled aside and yelled at for disobeying orders as soon as his feet his the tarmac.

Jack nodded and responded where he was expected to, but he wasn't really listening. His head was still up in the sky, corkscrewing the fighter so he could line up a shot to take down enemy planes.

This was totally why he was joining the Air Force.

* * *

_Charlie I_

* * *

  
The baby had been a bit of a surprise.

They hadn't exactly been trying, but they hadn't exactly done anything to prevent it, either. They had talked about having kids, but it had been more of a 'kids would be OK' type of conversation, not a 'let's have three kids in three years!' kind of conversation. If it happened, great. If it didn't, oh well.

They didn't make any solid plans because Jack was going here and there. He didn't exist for missions, however, so when he was home they certain took advantage of their time together.

He left on a two-month mission with Sara complaining about the stomach flu. When he came back four-and-a-half months later because of some 'delays,' she was pregnant and making him promise to try and at least stay on this half of the world, if not the continent.

He'd immediately gone to his commanding officer and secured the 12 months on American soil after the baby was born. It may have cost him his soul, but he was pretty sure it was going to be worth it.

Jack worked like a dog for the next five months. He'd go on his missions, do his best to finish them early without any significant bodily harm and then rush home to play the doting husband. Rushing around the house for whatever Sara asked for, assembling whatever overly complicated piece of baby paraphernalia she managed to purchase while he was gone and generally making a nuisance of himself around the house.

Jack knew that he was going to miss chunks of the baby's life. That was inevitable. The life he was leading left him no other choice but to be absent from his family for months at a time. He was determined to make the most of his time at home.

So Sara grew and Jack worried and the baby did everything his own way. He refused to turn the right way until the last minute, refused to make parts of himself visible to ultrasounds and insisted that his mother remain sick at all times.

"Let there never be any doubt that this is your kid Jack O'Neill," Sara would often complain while Jack simply smirked.

Then, like everything else the baby had ever done, the delivery was on his own terms. He was early by a few weeks and insisted on making a very late night entry into the world.

He also had the nerve to look nothing like the name Sara had picked out and told Jack he had no say in at all, what so ever.

Jack breathed a sigh of relief when Sara finally admitted that the kid looked nothing like a Jarred. He hated that name with a passion and probably would have even named his kid Earl if it meant he wasn't going to be named Jarred.

"You knew it all along, didn't you?" she complained to Jack as she cradled the small boy, offering one of his flailing hands a finger to grasp. "You knew he was going to look like a Charlie, didn't you?"

"Of course I did," he replied with a grin. "Why do you think I ever gave into Jarred?"

His gaze never left his son. Even though, as far as he could tell, the boy was nothing but a pink face in a sea of blue hat and blanket.

The nurses kept trying to kick him out; they couldn't understand why this Air Force major wouldn't just go home to his bed like every other military father they'd ever gotten through the doors. Eventually they just stopped trying.

An older nurses came in one night and dumped a fussing Charlie in his arms and handed him a bottle, telling him that if he was going to stick around, he might as well make himself useful.

He fumbled the boy a little, and Charlie began to complain a little more loudly but Jack recovered quickly as he tucked himself into the rocking chair that sat in the corner of the room. After a few tense moments, the O'Neill boys managed to figure out how the bottle worked and they both calmed down.

He started to rock the chair slowly, humming some aimless little tune he remembered from somewhere and took the time to simply take in the magnitude of what he was now responsible for.

He had a kid; a son; a small human that was now completely, utterly dependent on him. Someone he was supposed to raise and nurture and teach to be a decent human being, despite the fact that he was often shipped out to foreign lands with orders to gun some poor soul down before they even knew what was happening.

He felt a little sick at the thought. Not so much because of the responsibility, but because of the things he had done and the things he knew he was going to be asked to do. Jack believed in what he was doing for his country, he wouldn't be doing it otherwise, but still.

Was it going to make him a hypocrite to teach his son not to harm, to turn the other cheek instead? Could he raise a child well in a house where the first rule was "Do as I say, not as I do?"

Charlie eventually finished and Jack snapped out of his thoughts, slowly moving through the post-dinner motions that weren't second nature yet before he settled the boy on his lap and simply stared at him.

The baby yawned, stretched a little, waved a tiny fist at nothing and then settled down.

Jack ran a finger down his forehead and the bridge of his nose before pulling his hands away, feeling like his calloused hands were somehow going to damage the baby-soft skin if he wasn't careful.

Charlie, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy the contact. He cracked an eye open not long after Jack had removed his finger, and the two locked eyes for a long moment before Charlie yawned and his eyes fell shut again.

A crooked smile fell on Jack's face as he gathered the boy up from his lap and rested him on his shoulder, listening to the quiet breathing and little snuffles of the baby.

He didn't hear the nurse come back in to check on father and son, and he didn't hear her leave again without taking the baby.

Instead, he continued to rock slowly, his hand rubbing the baby's back gently while he hummed a little tune and enjoyed the stars that were outside the window.

* * *

_Charlie II_

* * *

  
Jack sat heavily on his bed and stared up at the dress blues hanging in front of the closet door, pressed and starched within an inch of its life. His Eagles and buttons were shined and gleaming.

Jack wanted to put the suit on even less than he usually did. He hated his dress blues and everything it represented at the moment.

He was a field officer. When those dress blues came out of the dry cleaning bag, it usually was because he was going to some ceremony where they were going to pin yet another medal to his chest using vague military language to cover the classified mission that had earned him said medal.

Sara and Charlie would sit in the front; she'd smile and clap for him while Charlie would be so excited he could barely sit still. In his mind, his father was a real life military hero and the coolest person he knew. As soon as Jack finished saluting the big brass presenting the award, he'd turn to Charlie and the boy would immediately jump to his feet and offer his father a salute.

That wasn't the case today though. Today, Jack was putting his dress blues on to go and bury his son, all because he'd been too stupid to lock his gun away after cleaning it one night.

He still couldn't believe that the 8-year-old had laid a finger on the weapon. Jack had lost track of how many times he'd talked with Charlie about how a gun was not a toy, that it killed people and they never came back, like the hamster he'd buried last year.

The boy always nodded, eyes wide, telling his father that he understood completely and that if he ever saw the gun out, he'd tell him or his mother.

Jack hadn't even allowed toy guns in the house. Pop guns, BB guns, even water pistols were forbidden at the O'Neill house. Charlie had known that, all his friends had known that and even if their parents hadn't understood, they'd respected the rule and frisked their boys before sending them over.

But it hadn't mattered in the end. Charlie had gotten a water pistol from a friend and had surprised Jack one day a few weeks ago with it.

Jack was tired and had snapped on the boy, wrenching the gun from his hands and yelling at him that hew knew guns were not allowed in their house.

Charlie had fired back that he hated that rule and that he and his friends played guns at school and when he went to their houses, so what difference did it make if he played them here? He wasn't going to confuse a green plastic water pistol with the black Beretta Jack kept upstairs.

But Jack hadn't wanted to hear it. He'd wanted to play catch with Charlie. But that wasn't going to happen now as father and son stared each other down for a long moment before Charlie stalked off to his room. Jack heard the door slam even though he was still standing in the yard.

Charlie was still mad two weeks later and while he and Sara were looking at the latest set of school pictures to come home, Charlie had gone looking for his father's gun.

He wanted to prove to Jack that he knew the difference between a real gun and a pretend one. He hadn't really expected to find the gun sitting on the nightstand.

Charlie had expected to get caught looking for the gun and to get a lecture before his father pulled the gun out, emptied the clip and tuck it away before showing him the weapon and maybe even letting him flick the safety on and off.

But he had found it and in his attempt to take the clip out, he'd accidentally pulled the trigger.

So here was Jack, standing in front of a mirror, adjusting his tie before pulling on his jacket, grabbing his hat and heading down the stairs to join his waiting wife. She cast a sideways glance at him and he saw the disapproval flash over her face. She'd wanted Jack to wear his black suit, but he knew how much Charlie had admired the Air Force blues, often proclaiming that he was going to follow in his old man's footsteps.

Jack couldn't not wear his blues to this, no matter what his wife wanted.

They sat quietly in the car.

Sara cried in the church and again at the internment, but he remained silent; the perfect stoic soldier who offered his son one last salute as his coffin was lowered into the ground.

As they slowly made their way back to the car, Jack decided that he never wanted to see his dress blues ever again.

* * *

_Secrets and Lies_

* * *

  
Daytime TV sucked, Jack decided as he cycled through the channels again.

All he could find were shows for stay at home moms and other women of various ages. This was why he really left retirement for the Air Force again, to escape the crappy daytime TV.

Jack sat at home, tucked away in his favorite easy chair with a beer in hand and a bowl of pretzels in his la, as he tried to find something on TV that would hold his attention for more than 10 seconds.

Normally he'd only watch if there was something worth watching, but he really needed to take his mind off of recent events. Unfortunately, his attempt at using "The Simpson's" to do just that had failed miserably, hence the channel surfing.

He'd lied to his team before about secret missions, but it had never hurt like this one did.

Hell, lying to Sarah and Charlie about secret missions had never hurt this much.

The look on Carter's face as he'd stolen from the Tollan; the look on Daniel's face as he'd lied about their friendship. And as for Teal'c, well, the man was as inscrutable as always, though he was pretty sure he would have liked to lay him out as soon as possible. He also felt like an ass talking to Hammond the way he did, even though the General was in on the act.

He knew that he had put them all in impossible positions by stealing the tech right in front of them. He forced them to choose between their loyalty to him and their loyalty to Hammond.

He worried about Carter the most in this situation. While he knew that it was all an act, she didn't.

As far as she was concerned, he'd forced her to put her career, her personal integrity, on the line to try and protect him.

As far as she was concerned, she'd seen him steal a piece of technology from their allies and she had chosen to keep quiet to try and protect him.

She was probably freaking out right now, and there was nothing he could do to assure her that everything was fine; that Hammond wasn't going to think any less of her for choosing to try and cover for him; that if she had gone to Hammond she would have made the whole act just that much more difficult.

He was pretty sure that SG1 hated him and he hated himself for making them hate him, though he was glad that they'd be safe now from what was going on.

With him no longer talking to any of them, no one would think they were in on this. He was also pretty sure that his place was bugged by now. There'd be no doubt to anyone who was listening that he was dedicated to securing Earth at all costs. Especially after the things he'd said to Daniel. God, he felt like an ass!

He supposed that since he'd heard from Maybourne not long after his fight with Daniel that the plan was obviously moving along smoothly. This was also further proof that his place was bugged and he'd made the right choice by going off on Daniel. Those were good signs, at least. The sooner he could wrap this up, the better.

Jack had to admit that he was a more than a little surprised that his acting wasn't tipping any one off. He was showing a rather dramatic, sudden, personality shift after all. He was actually slightly worried that he was over playing the role of disgruntled soldier.

With a sigh, Jack forced his thoughts back to the TV in front of him, now blaring about some useless product that would fulfill his life for only four easy payments of $19.95.

He considered picking up the phone briefly before changing his mind. He wasn't really retired, he was only acting and it would do him well to remember that. There would be plenty of time for him to waste money on useless gadgets in the future.

He turned the TV off and slouched back in the chair again as he considered his options.

His gaze fell on the phone again and the small white card tucked under it. It had been a few days since Maybourne had been here. He was supposed to wait a week, but Jack just really wanted this mission over and done with.

He had fences that were going to need more then mending and he wanted to get on with that as soon as possible. He hated to admit it, but he missed Carter and the guys. Without another thought, Jack picked up the card and dialed the number on it.

"Yeah, I'd like to leave a message for Colonel Maybourne," he said calmly. "Tell him Jack O'Neill called. I'll be home all week."


	4. Teal'c

**_Teal'c_ **

Failure

 

* * *

  
It was bright and sunny outside and he was busy with the other boys in the neighborhood, pretending to be members of their God's army.

They were waging their own terrific war in the name of Cronus when his mother had come out side and shooed the other boys to their mothers before bringing him inside.

Teal'c didn't understand why the soldiers of Cronus were at their house. He tried to be brave and stand proudly at her side, but the Jaffa were so tall and their staff weapons so intimidating that he quickly hid himself behind his mother's skirts.

He could bring himself to do nothing more than cling to her and peak out around her. They cast a quick eye down at him before bringing their eyes back up to his mother and continuing their conversation.

His father was Cronus' First Prime and when your father was First Prime and away in battle, there was only one reason that soldiers appeared at your door.

Teal'c swallowed hard but didn't do anything except pull himself up as tall as he could. If he was right, he was going to have additional responsibilities around the house now.

"You will come immediately," the guard said, stepping back slightly.

His mother's face tightened before she reached behind her and ushered Teal'c to step out and walk beside her. He looked up at her and was not surprised to see that she was standing tall, her chin raised slightly as they walked down the street towards Cronus' palace.

As soon as they stepped into the lavish palace, Teal'c shrunk into his mother's side slightly. He wanted to be brave, but he was actually walking in his God's palace and he was more than a little intimidated.

Placing a soft hand on his back, Teal'c's mother urged her son on and into the throne room. They both knelt in front of Cronus without hesitation.

When his father appeared, injured but alive, Teal'c was at a loss as to why there were there. Usually when the family of the First Prime was led to the palace, it meant that the First Prime had fallen in glorious battle and would be honored as a hero.

The next few moments burned their way into Teal'c's mind and stayed there for the rest of his life, although it took several years to actually unravel the series of events.

His father was dragged in front of Cronus and berated for not sacrificing his life for his God. Ronac tried to protest, but Cronus would hear nothing of it. Cronus quickly announced that Teal'c and his mother would be exiled for his dishonor. Then there was the flash of movement before Cronus was on top of Ronac. The God ripped his fathers armour off before plunging his hand into the symbiote pouch. Teal'c had no choice but to watch as Cronus slowly squeezed the life of his fathers symbiote. Ronac fell to the floor soon after.

Teal'c and his mother were ushered to the Chappa'ai and then to Chulak as a gift to Apophis.

They fell to the ground in front of Apophis' First Prime and were quickly grabbed and dragged to his palace, swearing their loyalty before having their tattoos removed and replaced.

They tied Teal'c down tightly, but that wasn't necessary. He lay perfectly still while the painful procedures took place. Teal'c was too busy thinking about what he had seen in Cronus' palace to be concerned with what was happening at the moment.

His father had failed in battle according to Cronus, but hadn't according to his father.

Teal'c had always been taught that to properly serve one's God, one must be honest and true to one's self.

You couldn't be true to your self if you lied, so Teal'c had to assume that his father wasn't lying.

That didn't surprise him at all, because his father had been an honest man, a man who never lied about anything. But Cronus had said that Ronac had failed, that he was lying about what had happened during the battle.

Since gods had no reason to lie, Teal'c drew the conclusion that his father was the liar and not Cronos. Ronac failed in battle and lied to cover his mistakes with no regard for what it would mean to his wife and son. His father was a coward, and this revelation scared Teal'c far more than anything else he had witnessed today.

"They boy did not cry out, My Lord," the First Prime said with a touch of wonder in his voice. Teal'c looked around and realized he was now standing in the throne room.

"Is that so?" Apophis asked, leaning forward as his lavish robes whispered against themselves. "Bring him to me."

The First Prime quickly took Teal'c by the arm and up a short flight of stairs, where the boy immediately fell to his knees, his eyes locked on his God's feet for a second before being dragged upright again.

Apophis studied him for a long moment before ordering him to look him in the eye. Teal'c did hesitantly, locking eyes with his God for a moment before quickly dropping his gaze again.

"He is indeed a fine specimen," Apophis pronounced after a moment, sliding back onto his throne. "Begin his training immediately, Bra'tac. I want you to oversee it personally."

"Yes, my Lord," the First Prime said with a slight nod of his head before ushering the boy out of the room. And with that, Teal'c's life was changed forever.

* * *

 

_Impending parenthood_

* * *

 

Normally, the hours Teal'c would spend working out with Bra'tac sped along. Before he knew it, Bra'tac would be calling an end to the day's session as the sun began to dip below the horizon, signaling the end of another day.

Today however, things were not moving as smoothly as normal. Teal'c had been working with Bra'tac for hours now, but his head was not into the practice.

The former First Prime was beating him left and right at every turn instead of every second turn like usual, and no matter how many times the old man pointed this out, Teal'c couldn't force his mind back to the task at hand. Teal'c inability to focus his mind on the task at hand was leaving both men more than a little frustrated.

Teal'c wanted to be frustrated himself, wanted to narrow his focus to the sparing practice that he was supposed to be participating in but he couldn't. His thoughts were spread in a million different directions and improving his skills as a warrior was not a high priority at the moment.

He knew this in itself should be a learning moment. That no matter what is going on in a warrior's life, he should remain focused on the battle at all times. If he didn't, he was sure to be killed.

"You are distracted. Again," Bra'tac said, lowering his staff weapon.

The disappointment and frustration in his voice was more than evident. Teal'c lowered his staff weapon as well as he wondered whether or not to share the source of his distraction with his mentor.

"Drey'auc is with child," he finally admitted. Bra'tac's face lit up in a smile and he slapped Teal'c on the back, offering his congratulations.

"A child is indeed a blessing," he said proudly. "May your son be a great warrior and your daughter a fine woman." Teal'c accepted the standard congratulation. "You are not pleased?" he asked after a moment.

"I am . . . concerned."

"As you should be," Bra'tac replied gravely, inclining his head slightly as he leaned on his staff weapon.

"If the Goa'uld are indeed false Gods, what kind of world am I bringing a child into?" he asked. "What right do I have to bring a child into this world only to have them forced into the servitude of a false God?"

"What right does a false God have to deny you the honor and pleasure of raising a child?" Bra'tac countered. Teal'c sighed heavily. "Are you concerned because of what happened to your father?" he asked cautiously.

"How can I be the father my child deserves if my own father was killed before I truly knew him?" Teal'c asked quietly, finally admitting his real fears.

"You are a fine man and a great warrior. Your honesty and integrity set you above any other warrior I have ever met. These qualities alone will allow you to raise an exceptional child. Plus, you must remember that you will not be alone in this arduous task. Drey'auc will be by your side through this journey."

Teal'c considered these words carefully for a moment before Bra'tac called him back to reality again.

"I should be scolding you for allowing yourself to be distracted by personal matters," Bra'tac said, a grave look on his face.

Teal'c quickly assured him that his mind was now at ease and could focus wholly on his training.

Teal'c's picked up his staff weapon and readied himself, but his mind was no more on the sparing practice than it was before.

However, this time instead of worrying about his ability to parent, he was picturing a healthy boy who would look up to him and admire him.

* * *

_Loyalties_

* * *

* * *

These humans had plainer taste than the Goa'uld.

Teal'c's normal surroundings consisted of gold softened with the finest silks and satins, not hard gray concrete walls. There was very little in the room to break up the monotony of the gray, either.

With nothing else to do, Teal'c sat patiently on the bed in the room the humans had placed him. O'Neill had assured him that he was safe, that this was all standard procedure, but he wasn't completely sure.

If he had to deal with a defector, he would use whatever means necessary to obtain – and verify – any information that person might have. The humans didn't do that.

What the humans had done is given him a thorough medical examination, even though he assured them that his symbiote protected him from any pathogens.

He was then asked to removed his amour and wear the clothing they provided for him and asked to wait in a room devoid of anything except for a bed and facilities to relieve himself should the need arise.

Not lost to him was the fact that there was a guard standing outside his door and a monitoring device affixed to the ceiling in the corner of the room. He focused his attention on that small device for a moment before refocusing his gaze straight ahead.

He sat with his back ramrod straight; ready to react at a moments notice, just as he had always been trained to do.

Teal'c had been sitting in the room for some time now, trying to figure out exactly what their plan was. Had O'Neill lied to him? Had he risked his live to save O'Neill, his team and the other prisoners only to become a prisoner himself after being promised freedom?

He was so absorbed in his personal musing that he missed the fact that two faces were now peering in at him through the small window in the door.

"And on what, exactly, did you base your decision to bring him through the Stargate with you?" Samuels demanded, his gaze never leaving the Jaffa that was sitting on the bed.

"He saved us," Jack answered simply. "He risked his life and gave up everything he's ever known to get us out of that prison and through the gate. If he was just doing this to betray us, I doubt he'd put up with this. I mean, come on! The guy is a tank," O'Neill finished, his confidence in his decision never wavering. Samuels made a few more snotty remarks that started to wind Jack up before Hammond stepped in.

"Enough," he said, finally turning his gaze onto Jack. "He will be confined to the base when he is not off world," Hammond pronounced. "He will have limited access to the facilities on base. Medical, mess, gym and other recreational areas. This will be open to negotiation in the future. However, at the first sign of betrayal, he will be detained and sent to a secure facility in Area 51 as soon as possible."

Jack nodded, understanding the risks that Hammond was taking siding with him on this.

"He will be your responsibility, Colonel."

"Yes Sir," he said with a sharp nod. Hammond gave him the eye once more before he left, heading back toward his office with Samuels' on his heels, complaining the whole way.

Jack quickly waved off the guards and invited himself into Teal'c holding room. The Jaffa immediately rose to his feet and regarded O'Neill with the practiced eye of a soldier.

"Come on, I'll show ya around, maybe grab a bite to eat and then we'll find you some real quarters."

Teal'c said nothing, but bowed his head slightly before holding his hands behind his back. He followed O'Neill out into the corridor, staying a respectful distance behind him, listening intently as O'Neill told him about the restrictions that he was under, as well as a few brief summaries about people on the base.

Teal'c worked on committing the oral lessons to memory right away. He knew that he was going to have to prove himself to the humans if he was ever going to have any measure of freedom and chance to free his people.

The sooner he learned their rules and ways, the sooner he could achieve his goals and return to his wife and son - a wife and son he would not tell the humans about for fear that they would see them as a weakness.

Perhaps in time he'd share his wife and son with the humans. O'Neill was already well on his way to gaining Teal'c's unquestioning loyalty and the rest of SG1 were not far behind.

Captain Carter was a more than capable warrior and she was obviously a great scholar to her people. He felt a great need to protect the female, but knew he was going to have to curb that instinct. Captain Carter could take care of herself.

Daniel Jackson on the other hand was going to need all the protecting he and the others could provide. The man was a scholar with no warrior training what so ever.

He decided immediately that he would make keeping Daniel Jackson safe his top priority. He was the man who had opened the Chappa'ai, the Stargate, for the humans and he too was a great scholar. He had a feeling that if he could protect Daniel Jackson it would go a long way to proving his loyalty to his new people.

"You still with me?" Jack asked suddenly.

"I am, O'Neill," Teal'c assured him.

"Just checking," he said, eyeing the large man. "You're pretty quiet back there."

"I am simply absorbing the information you are sharing with me, as well as memorizing the layout of the base."

There was no need to tell O'Neill about his personal musings at this juncture.

"Don't worry about it," he told him with a shrug, slowing his stride until he was walking shoulder to shoulder with Teal'c. "We can always go over it again. And I can probably get a hold of a map for you at some point."

Teal'c tried to adjust his stride to put a respectful distance between them again, but O'Neill would simply adjust his stride again to stay next to Teal'c. A ghost of a smile graced Teal'c's lips when he realized that in O'Neill's mind, he was already an equal.

If he accomplished nothing else, he had at least proven his loyalty to his commanding officer, something that made Teal'c think things were going to work out in the end after all.

* * *

_Doubts_

* * *

* * *

  
Teal'c sat alone, away from the other Jaffa who had come to pay their respects. Some were friends of his wife and son, while others were simply there to pay their respects because she had been his wife and mother of his only child.

The funeral pyre that held his wife burned brightly in the background. His son had long since returned to the gathered Jaffa.

The two had talked, smoothed over the rough edges that had appeared in their relationship, but now the boy was seeking solace with people Teal'c feared he knew better than his own father.

He believed in freedom for all Jaffa. He knew he believed in it; that it would happen someday. But part of him was beginning to wonder if the sacrifices he was making, was forcing others to make, were truly worth it in the end.

The list was long: abandoning his wife and child to the not-so-tender mercies of a false God; allowing them to be shunned by former friends; forcing his wife into a loveless marriage so his son would be raised properly; making them live in this crude camp with none of the comforts he enjoyed on Earth.

But it didn't end there. He allowed his son to be kidnapped and brain washed by a false God; to be convinced to end his own life and that of every person on Earth because he was essentially chasing a dream. And it was a distant dream at that.

Now he had yet again sacrificed his wife to the cause; only this time there was no way to retrieve her. He so filled her with hope and hatred of the Goa'uld that she refused to take a new symbiote to save herself and he had lost her forever.

Teal'c didn't feel very much like the protector and provider he was raised to be at the moment.  
He sighed heavily as he turned his gaze to the flames in the distance that were reaching towards the stars, small sparks and smoke fluttering away in the breeze.

He paused for a moment and wished that he had allowed the members of SG1 to accompany him. They had truly become his friends and family during his time on Earth, accepting him without question and defending him even when they didn't have to.

He missed their support and the calm, steady reassurance they would have provided him with. But this wasn't the place for the humans. His wife was one of the first to willingly sacrifice herself as an example to the cause. This was a time for Jaffa to gather, to reflect on the magnitude of the quest they were embarking on. This was a time for them to decide if this is really the life they want.

Teal'c couldn't help but take a moment to think about his own motives. Was he really doing the right thing? Was all this actually going to be worth it in the end? He was sure the Jaffa would see freedom eventually. He just hoped it would be in his lifetime. He needed it to happen in his lifetime. He needed to see that all his sacrifices, all the bridges he had burned were truly worth it. He needed to know that his wife and child had not suffered in vain.

After a long moment, he stood, leaving the ragged stone steps that led up to the Stargate. He walked a few feet away before tipping his head towards the stars. He had often seen Major Carter take such action when they were off world and she was troubled. He had asked her once, why she did it and she had explained that she found it reassuring.

"No matter where we are in the universe, what is going on, the stars are always there. They're the one constant in my life that I can always count on to be there."

He'd given her a look and she'd chuckled, explaining that while SG1 was a constant in her life, they weren't always with her physically.

They may be captured, in the infirmary or simply at home, but the stars were with her no matter where she was. She trusted in them just as she trusted her mathematical equations.

He took comfort in her certainty and he knew that SG1 and the other members of the SGC took comfort in his certainty and that thought was exactly what he needed at that moment. If he could so blindly believe in them and they in him, he could put that same blind trust into the rebel Jaffa.

Teal'c dropped his gaze back to the group gathered around the funeral pyre and he no longer felt hollow in his chest. Instead, he felt a spark of hope. With a ghost of a smile quirking his lips, he calmly walked back towards the group, ready to rejoin the world.

* * *

_Freedom_

* * *

  
It was late. It had been a long day and Teal'c really should be in bed, but he simply couldn't put his mind to rest.

He supposed he had good reason to still be excited, the last vestiges of adrenaline still running through his body, it had been a glorious battle after all.

The Jaffa had taken and held Dakara against Ba'al, Anubis and the Replicators. They had also successfully eliminated all the Replicators in the Milky Way galaxy in one shot with the help of Samantha Carter, her father Jacob and the Tok'ra Selmac.

All these things were certainly worth celebrating, but the main reason he was still awake, that all the Jaffa on Dakara were still awake, was that they were finally free. The Jaffa had freed themselves of the Goa'uld with the help of the Tok'ra and the Tau'ri, and they were now on their own with only themselves to answer to.

They were finally their own masters, and with Tretonin readily available they were no longer dependent on the Goa'uld for anything.

They no longer needed to worry about securing symbiotes for their children or themselves. And those still carrying an infant Goa'uld could choose to remove it if they so desired.

The Jaffa were free in every sense of the word and Teal'c could not be prouder of his people than he was now. There were a few Jaffa who were still loyal to false gods, but it was only a matter of time before they saw the error of their ways and came to Dakara seeking freedom and sanctuary.

Teal'c moved slowly through the sacred temple and up the stairs until he could look out upon the grounds. Light from the stars and moon glinted off the Stargate standing tall and proud in the distance.

A light breeze made it's way through the stonework, and Teal'c couldn't help but take a deep breath. His very soul felt lighter knowing that this world was theirs and no one would take it from them.

He did worry about his Tau'ri friends. He had pledged his allegiance to them until the Jaffa were free, and now that he had achieved that goal he would be leaving them. There were very few among them who had real experience dealing with freedom. If the Jaffa nation were to survive, it would require all of them to remain on Dakara and lead the others; to teach them what freedom truly meant.

As he continued to survey the land in front of him, Teal'c had visions of an elected government, every group of Jaffa represented equally and fairly no matter their size or military power, of a Dakara that was flourishing with life. Where small villages would crop up, farmland that would turn the landscape green instead of the rust colored dirt that was around him at the moment. The air would fill with the sounds of children who had known nothing but freedom and elders who would not hesitate to remind the young ones of what it took to give them the life they now enjoyed.

It was a grand vision and it pleased him greatly, even if it was several years away from reality. The potential was there and the only thing in the way was themselves.

"I see you cannot rest either," Bra'tac said, shattering Teal'c's quiet musings.

"There is much on my mind," he confided to his oldest friend. "I see a future full of great things."

"As do I Brother," he said, clapping a hand on Teal'c shoulder as they both shared a smile. "And we are finally free to make dreams a reality."


End file.
